A blog where those who are lost come to be found, not necessarily found out. A blog where you can be silly, and expect the same in return. An occasionally serious place, a constantly changing place. It's your Happy Place, and mine. So, let's put on our aprons and let's get busy.

An Award-Winning Disclaimer

A charming little Magpiewhispered this disclaimer into my ear, and I'm happy to regurgitate it into your sweet little mouth:

"Disclaimer: This blog is not responsible for those of you who start to laugh and piss your pants a little. Although this blogger understands the role he has played (in that, if you had not been laughing you may not have pissed yourself), he assumes no liability for damages caused and will not pay your dry cleaning bill.

These views represent the thoughts and opinions of a blogger clearly superior to yourself in every way. If you're in any way offended by any of the content on this blog, it is clearly not the blog for you. Kindly exit the page by clicking on the small 'x' you see at the top right of the screen, and go fuck yourself."

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Things I Don't "Do"

You know the housekeeper (or wife) who is fond of saying,

"I don't "do" windows?"

Yeah, well, in honor of her (get out that Windex, bitch), here's a list of things that I don't "do."

* Breakfast Burritos

Sorry, Ron McDon, but, from one clown to another: Homie don't play. I'm suspicious of the contents of your hamburgers, so why would I open myself up to a potential world of pain by sinking my teeth into a completely disguised breakfast conglroption? I very much doubt that anybody really knows what the fuck is actually in there and, if there are people out there who do, they should be ashamed of themselves. I know I make some questionable comestible decisions in my daily life (see post regarding semen-coated processed ham) but I will not engage in the food fiesta known as the Breakfast Burrito. I'm sorry, those are two words that were never meant to be put together, despite the seductive nature of the alliteration.

* Confrontation

If you were six foot and 136 pounds (fully clothed, with oversized wallet and keys in pocket) you wouldn't "do" confrontation either. As you know from reading this blog, I have a big fucking mouth. I'm a 20-something blogger ("The bloggers with the most to say!") and I can be one irate sonofafuck-- but that's online. It should come as no shock to you that someone who has a penchant for written bellicosity online would be meek and almost mute in real life. I'm very reluctant to go toe-to-toe with anybody, much more preferring to make peace and mediate the disputes of others. Even though there are some people I would like to massacre with the tines of a fork.

Yesterday, for example, I was getting my car's oil changed. I was chit-chatting with Jack, the baby-faced, genteel Chinese mechanic when the brutish thug who owns the gas station stormed into the garage, cut in front of me while I was talking and yelled, "JACK, GET ME AN ALLEN KEY!" Jack immediately stopped talking to me and meekly retrieved the Allen key, just like the model minority that he is. I quietly stewed in my rage until the bastard left the garage area, and then I made fun of him with Jack. But, in my fantasy, this is what happend:

Asshole: JACK! GET ME AN ALLEN KEY!

Fantasy Me: HEY! How about, "Excuse me, Jack-- could you please get me an Allen key?"

Asshole: Who the fuck are you?

Fantasy Me: Who the fuck am I? I'm your Daddy, bitch. And you're about to get spanked.

* Small Talk

I can't fake my way though it. I can't pretend I like it. I can't chit-chat with the woman on the corner who has two dachsunds barking miserably in the background without a pained wince bubbling to the surface. Everytime someone mentions the weather to me, I cringe. The weather? Seriously? Do you really have that little to say to me? Then how about just saying nothing? I was once criticized by a former employer for "not making more of an effort at small-talk."

"But, I'm working," I lied. I was online most of the time looking for other jobs.

"Well, it wouldn't kill you to ask how my weekend was or something like that."

I stared at her in disbelief. I was laid off a month later.

This was the same woman who, by the way, criticized my supervisor, during an actual end-of-year evaluation, for not acknowledging her birthday.

* Facebook quizzes

Yeah, we've been over this before, but I feel it bears repeating. If you think that knowing the answer to such mind-deadening questions as "Which Sopranos character are you?" or "Which swimming event is your speciality?" or "Which handheld bluetooth activated cellular device are you?" is going to bring us closer, than you're obviously Facefucked.

* iPods

This little piece of technology has somehow passed me by. I like to think that I'm pretty with it. I have a handheld bluetooth activated cellular device (and it poings when I get an email!), I have a GPS unit for the car, we have a flat screen TV AND computer monitor, I watch shit on Hulu and I consider myself a pioneer consumer of online streaming pornography-- but I don't go to iTunes and download iSongs to fill an iPod that I then strap onto my iShoulder to go iJogging in iPublic. In fact, I don't "do" anything that begins with a small letter "i" followed immediately by a capital letter with no space iN between.

I'll never have an iPhone, either. I love real buttons far too much.

* Infidelity

Sorry, ladies, but I think you basically have to be the scum of the earth or worse to make a lifelong committment to another person and then go dick-dipping. If things are really lousy, that's why normal people can get divorced (sorry, Catholics, you're weird) but there is no justification, ever, for cheating on your spouse. Period. I'd rather insert my cock into a jar of acid than let it touch another woman. People tend to forget that they have self-control and that, just because there are hot women out there, some of whom might actually might want to sleep with or otherwise seduce you, you actually have something called impulse control. Use it.

* Shorts

I absolutely do not "do" shorts. I mean, I wear them, but I do not "do" them. There's a difference. I wear shorts begrudingly. I'm never happy about it. I look like a chicken wearing a very strategically-placed cotton ball. I got from 2nd grade through 9th grade without ever wearing shorts, except maybe for gym, but I didn't like it. Fortunately, from the second half of 10th grade through 12th grade, I took ballroom dancing instead of normal gym. No shorts required.

* Any activity that follows the word "Extreme"

Yeah... in first grade, I broke my right foot in music class. I think that pretty much explains this one.

14 comments:

The fact that you're not a part of the 'i-' craze has just rocketed you up onto the list of people I find sexy*. My sister has an iPod and iPhone and I sit there with my Nokia and mp3 player saying despairingly, 'Why???'

*(that you 'don't do' infidelity, confrontation or small talk only serves to increase your appeal.)

Oh, Facebook quizzes "When will you and your boyfriend a two weeks be married?" "How many children will you pop out and when?" "What generic date in the future will this random sampling of questions predict you'll die?"

I love my iPod though. Because iLike to listen to my iMusic all of the iTime and it works really well with my iTunes. :)

I'm totally with you on the confrontation and small talk. I like to read over my lunch hour and I can't go into the kitchen at work, sit down and eat my lunch while reading because there is a coworker who has to come in there, and despite my nose being buried in a book, she starts up talk about the weather, her grandson, and dieting. Ack!

Not so much with you on the iPod. I really like my iPod because it's metallic green and shiny. :)

The iPod is convenient and awesome- despite the unfortunate capitialization ( or lack there of). iTunes, although often annoying in their recommendations based on my previous purchases or owned music, is also convenient and awesome. You know you're going to get into sooner or later- just like you used to think Bluetooth ear thingies were douchey. Besides- I don't think wearing the iPod in an arm band and joggin with it is requisite to owning the device.

Amen to the no infidelity thing (I particularly loved the image of acid dick) and the facebook quizzes (most of which are more painful than acid dick).

Oh, and as to not spelling out "shit" and other expletives on my own blog, I have a strict no-swearing policy on there (but no principle to back that policy up). You'll no doubt notice that I have no problem writing out "shit" in the comments to your blog, though. Again, no principles.

i also don't do shorts. i have skinny chicken legs and a HUGE behind-which doesn't look right to begin with and shorts only exasperate this. Story (is anybody still reading this?): last year on the first day of the year befitting for shorts I wore them to class and passed our star basketball player-this was a big deal for me because the sports guys weren't really in my classes. ANYWAYS he stopped mid-cell-phone-conversation to tell me "Damn girl! You bow-legged as a mother f ***er"thank you raymond sykes.